Orpheus Complex
by TheJabberwocker
Summary: Zuko has always been a fighter no matter what the odds. When the woman he loves dies, he's ready to take on the spirit world to bring her back. That's assuming he doesn't lose himself in the process. A vaguely experimental Post-war Fic.
1. Chapter 1

As the rain fell harder, the gathered mourners began to disperse. Fire Lord Zuko stood beside the funeral pyre, the hot flames sizzling against the downpour. As his topknot fell to pieces, loose strands of hair dangling around his face, he tried not to think to hard about what exactly was burning.

General Iroh, having returned from his retirement in Ba-Sing-Se, reached out from beneath his umbrella to grasp his nephew's shoulder. Zuko's unblinking eyes stared into the inferno unwaveringly. When Iroh spoke, his voice was solemn with empathy. His family was too accustomed to loss. "I am deeply sorry nephew. This was not meant to happen."

Zuko responded without turning. "There either is fate, or there is not. Don't bother me with paradoxes, Uncle."

Tears began to fall from Zuko's good eye, mixing with the rain drops already streaming down his face. Iroh lifted his umbrella to shelter his nephew from the unsympathetic elements, but the young man walked away from him, retreating into the now empty royal chambers.

The old general stared down into the flames with a sigh, and dropped a single moon lily into the blaze. The white petals blackened as the flower fell, crinkling and shriveling into unrecognizable ash. He bowed his head in prayer as the fire sages finished the last of their chanting.

* * *

Zuko had found her lying in the garden, propped against the cherry tree beside the turtleduck pond. Though he had initially mistaken her stillness for sleep, his wartime experiences told him otherwise. A body looks one way alive, and another dead, and he had seen far too many of the latter to remain ignorant.

Upon further inspection, it seemed she'd been bitten by a scorpion-snake on her way across the garden and had fallen beside the pond in her final moments. The venom had been mercifully quick, of that much he was certain.

It was quite a way to end a honeymoon, but with his luck, Zuko had to wonder how he could have hoped for anything else.

He'd spent much of the last few weeks as drunk as possible, ceding more and more of his duties to various ministers and civil servants. He moved from his room less and less.

Finally Iroh could take no more of it, and burst into his nephew's room, to find the Fire Lord passed out on his bedroom floor, his late wife's dress clutched in one hand, a bottle in the other.

Lifting his surrogate child into bed took much effort for his aging body, but he couldn't think of what else to do.

"Uncle?"

Zuko's voice was small and weak from disuse. There was a hollow quality to it that had never been there before.

"Yes, Lord Zuko?"

His nephew looked at him with blank eyes, as if he were staring at something far off in the distance.

"Tell me about the spirit world."

* * *

A/N-

I'm trying something new here: tragedy and short, impressionistic chapters. I have an idea that's been brewing in my head for awhile now, and I want to see it through. Please review and let me know what you think.

Jabberwocker


	2. Chapter 2

Iroh sank into an arm chair beside the Fire Lord's bed with a sigh. He closed his eyes tightly, and place his hands on his knees. His nephew stared at him, unblinking. Expectant. For a moment, the silence was all-consuming.

"Zuko," the old man finally began, "When a building burns, we sift through the ashes and take away what we can from the wreckage. We cherish what was, but accept its loss. Only a fool tries to rebuild with rubble." He glanced over at his adoptive son, hoping to see if his allegory was sinking in. "We heal, we move on, but we bear the scars of our loss for the rest our lives."

When Zuko remained silent, Iroh reached out and touched his nephew's arm. "You are in great pain. Believe me, I of all people understand that. I know far too well how it feels to lose the people you love."

Zuko rolled away from him, still silent. The general continued. "I have been to the other world, I have made that mistake, and I can assure you there nothing on any plane of existence that will ease your pain. Tampering with the spirits only causes more suffering."

Iroh pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes, tears beginning to flow noiselessly down his face."I love you as my own son, Zuko. But I will not help you torture yourself. On this mission, you are alone."

A moment passed as his words sank in. With a creaking sound Zuko rose from his bed, and placed a hand on Iroh's shoulder. The old general looked up, and tear stained eyes met glassy resolute ones.

Zuko drew his lips into a thin smile. "I have always loved you uncle," The fire lord began. "I'd hoped for your help with this," He touched Iroh's cheek and brushed away a tear. "But I guess I'll just have to ask the Avatar."

* * *

Aang had been very confused by Zuko's sudden curiosity into the spirit world, but the airbender had always been fairly easy to manipulate. Visiting the young monk at his present hermitage, the western air temple, the Fire Lord couldn't help but wonder how he'd failed so many times at capturing him. One line about how the loss of his wife had turned him toward spirituality, and the Avatar spilled his guts.

In the old days, Zuko mused, Aang probably would have come willingly if he'd just told him about his banishment.

"In all honesty I only know two ways for normal people to enter the spirit world. They aren't too fun."

"I'm listening." The firebender's tone carried no hesitation.

Aang sighed. "Well, you could get taken to the other side by a spirit, I'd be glad to introduce you to one, but I doubt you'd retain too much of the journey."

"And the other one?" Zuko asked.

The airbender looked at him sympathetically, "You're not going to like it."

* * *

The Fire Lord knelt down to inspect the unmarked grave in the royal prison yard, fingers prodding a red and white speckled fungus sprouting from the dirt.

"_They call it the Death's Angel Mushroom. It's very rare, but it should do the trick. When eaten it allows the user to see the overlap between the world's. The effect is permanent, and from what I've been told it's a bit unpleasant. There is a catch though: It feeds on hatred and has to consume a soul in order to grow. It only grows from the corpses of those who died with no love in their hearts."_

_Zuko repressed a chuckle, and patted the Avatar on the back. "I know just where to look."_

The earliest days of Zuko's reign had been tumultuous, plagued with revolts and miniature revolutions, as word spread throughout the Fire Nation that the Phoenix King had been deposed.

While he was sure Aang had kept Ozai alive as an act of mercy, a symbol of hope and change for the coming era, the decision had been remarkably short sighted. Firebending or no, as long as the former ruler survived the legitimacy of Zuko's rule was threatened. With his father gone, and the only other remnants of the royal family either in self-imposed exile or in an asylum, there would be no one else for the rebels to stand behind. The fire of Agni only burned within the royal lineage, and only a fool would oppose the will of the spirits.

Among the first documents Zuko signed upon taking the throne was the warrant for his Father's execution.

We bear the scars of our loss, his uncle had said. Touching his left eye, Zuko couldn't help but agree.

Picking the spotted mushroom from the grave soil, he brushed it off against his robes and sniffed it.

Just as he'd expected, it smelled like rotting meat.

* * *

A/N- Though the response to this story has been a little lack luster, I still have hopes that it'll wind up being pretty good. Either way the plot's been floating around in my head for too long to ignore it.

I'm not going to beg for reviews, but if you made it this far, I guess I'd offer up the friendly suggestion.

And maybe a hypothetical cookie.

Emphasis on hypothetical.

Thanks for reading

Jabberwocker


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